Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Costa Rica and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Archie Shepp,
Rapeman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Human League,
Public Image Ltd.,
Maleditus Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mad Mike,
Swell Maps,
The Vogues,
Thompson Twins,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
The Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
L. Decosne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Hood,
Donald Byrd,
John Foxx,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Young Rascals,
Bill Wells,
X-101,
H. Thieme,
Nils Olav,
Brand Nubian,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Starr,
Barrington Levy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fuzztones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Buckinghams,
Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Groovy Waters,
The Dead C,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brick,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
kango's stein massive,
Das Ding,
Blossom Toes,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vladislav Delay,
Sixth Finger,
The Leaves,
Ponytail,
The Monks,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.